My consulting detective and me
by missClaraOswinOswald
Summary: A series of one shots of Sherlolly (Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper).
1. Chapter 2 What about marriage?

**A/N: I posted a preview of this one shot on my tumblr: 221b-and- the-tardis. tumblr. com**

 **Summary: Sherlock wants to ask Molly to marry him but he doesn't know if she would say yes.**

Sherlock had been thinking about proposing to Molly for a while now. Their two- year anniversary was coming up and he wanted to surprise her. He had discussed it with John and Lestrade but they weren't very helpful. John proposed to Mary during dinner and Lestrade went just through a divorce. He had now idea how he should do it. But he had bought a ring, for starters. The right size and a type he knew she would like. Silver with a small sapphire and diamonds. But Molly had been a bit vague about marriage. Her parents divorced when she was twelve and her mother remarried again with a man that disliked Molly and sent her away to a horrible boarding school. She was afraid of being hurt again.  
Sherlock's ex- girlfriend Janine was about to marry in a month, so that was a good reason to talk to Molly about it. He was very nervous and anxious for rejection. He wanted his pathologist to be truly his.  
'Can't believe Janine asked me to be her bridesmaid.' Molly said to Sherlock on a quiet Saturday night at 221B. 'I am her ex's girlfriend!'  
'I suppose she considers you a friend.' Sherlock said. 'Otherwise she wouldn't have asked you.'  
'No, you're right.' Molly said, kissing him. 'It's just a bit of a… difficult topic. We argued about her wedding last time I saw her.'  
'Why? What about marriage? He asked, a bit anxious.  
'Many marriages end in a divorce, Sherlock. My parent's one did and I fear the pain that a divorce causes. I want my friends and loved ones to be happy but the guy Janine's about to marry… I think he will break her heart.'  
'Did you deduce that?' Sherlock asked his pathologist.  
'Sort of, he approached me when I was at their place to drop something off, tried to kiss me.' Molly sighed. 'I hit him.' Sherlock smiled and placed a kiss on her head. 'See, self- defense classes are useful, I-'  
'Told you so.' She smiled. 'Yep.'  
'But would the small risk of divorce stop you from marrying someone you love?' He asked.  
Molly looked him in the eye. 'Are you asking? You don't seem to be marrying kind of person.'  
'Answer my question, Molly Hooper.' He said demanding.  
'No. I would still marry anyway. Why are you asking me?'She answered.  
'Just to be sure.' He mumbled.  
Molly looked at him suspicious. 'You never discussed marriage with me before. Why now?'  
'Just… Reasons.'  
'Sure. Reasons- whatever they may be.' She said and stood up. 'If you are not going to tell me, I am calling John. He will definitely tell me.'  
'It's 2 in the morning!' Sherlock said fast. He'd discussed the topic of proposing to Molly with John and John was bit too honest.  
He would spoil the proposal. 'And his daughter is three weeks old and doesn't sleep well. He is tired.'  
'Since when do you care about someone else's well- being?'She snapped.  
'Since I wanted to do this.' Sherlock pulled out a small box and got down on one knee.  
'No way.' Molly said. 'No way.'  
'Yes.' Sherlock said smiling and opened the box. 'Molly Hooper, we've been through a lot together and we got out stronger. You are the one that matters the most in my life, the most important person. Without you, I wouldn't have survived. I love you. Will you marry me?' He waited for her reaction, always that fear of rejection.  
'Yes.' She said with a big smile. 'I love you.'  
He put the ring on her finger and kissed her, feeling overjoyed. 'I may not seem the marrying kind of person, mrs. Holmes, but I am full of surprises.'  
'I know.' She smiled and kissed him again. 'I think Janine will be jealous.'  
'I bet she will be.' Sherlock smirked. 'Everyone will be.'


	2. Chapter 3 Last Night At St Barts

_**A/N: This one was also up for a couple of weeks, but I've edited and changed it.**_  
 _ **Summary: Sherlock visits Molly at the morgue a few nights before his fall.**_

 ** _LAST NIGHT AT ST. BARTS_**

Molly Hooper was cleaning up, getting her coat, ready to leave. Her shift ended late today and they had found another body that needed an autopsy so Lestrade had begged Molly to stay for another few hours. And she gave in, she hadn't much to do. No boyfriend, no parents, no family. Her father passed away a few months ago.  
She hung out with Mary Morstan quite often but real friends? No. She wanted Sherlock to consider her friend, but the man didn't have any feelings for her and only took her for granted.  
'What are the results of the autopsy?' a voice in the dark said.  
Molly startled. 'Who's there?'  
A tall man stepped out of the shadow. 'Hello, Molly.'  
She sighed relieved. 'Sherlock. I thought you were working on the case? What are you doing here?  
'Yes,' he answered. 'But I need to know the results of the autopsy, a man's alibi depends on it.'  
She opened her bag and handed him the file. 'I hope it helps you.'  
He smirked. 'Oh, it will always help.' He turned away, ready to leave, but stood still. 'Molly, how are you?'  
'Why would you want to know that? Like I matter.' she said. 'I know how people think about that strange Molly Hooper, stuck in her lab all day with dead people. The girl who never matters.'  
'I want to know that because I care. Don't say you don't matter to anyone. To me, you matter the most.' He smiled at her. 'I like the new hairstyle and your clothes. It suits you better. But how are you doing?'  
Molly looked down at her clothes, she tried something new after her boyfriend had dumped her. A simple black blouse, skinny jeans and ankle boots with a mid- high heel. She got a new haircut and started using make up. 'Thanks.' she whispered. 'Well, to be honest I'm not okay.' She sat down, so did he.  
'My dad passed away a few months ago, I broke up with my boyfriend, and lately I am just alone quite a lot.' she whispered. 'How are you?'  
'I think I am going to die.' he said. She looked up, tears running down her face.  
'Why do you think that, Sherlock?' she asked him.  
'Moriarty wants me dead.' he said.  
'Can I help you?' Molly asked. 'Please, tell me I can do something for you.'  
'I need a corpse.' He explained the plans Mycroft and he had invented. 'Can you take care of that?'  
'Course I will .' she said and got her phone out of her bag and started calling several morgues. 'Hello, this is Molly Hooper speaking, pathologist at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. I am looking for a corpse. Male, in his thirties. Brown slash black curls, about six foot tall. Green, blue-ish eyes. Probably wearing a suit and a long coat. No, I don't have a name but I need to know where it is.'  
After calling four morgues, Molly found the corpse in a morgue about hundred kilometers away from London. Sherlock called Mycroft who immediately took care of it.  
'Thank you, Molly.' Sherlock said. 'You just saved my life.'  
'It was nice to see you, Sherlock.' He grabbed her hand. 'Molly, please, sit down. I need to talk to you about something else. I can do it now, maybe it's too late later.'  
'Okay.' she said.  
'Molly Hooper, I am in love with you.' He said. 'I love you.'  
She was speechless. 'Are you serious?' she whispered. They both stood up, to see each other 's face better.  
'Of course I am serious. Take my pulse, see, my heart beat has gone up.' She took his pulse, he was right, he was nervous. 'Oh Sherlock.' she whispered. 'I didn't expect this.' He smiled a little, the smile warmed her heart. 'I love you too.' she whispered and kissed him.  
He kissed her back and they held each other for a while, they knew it would be one of the last moment's or maybe the last moment they would have together.  
'I will help you, Sherlock.' she promised him. 'But please let me know you're alive.'  
'I can't,' he whispered. 'I am going undercover.'  
'At least send me a card once in a while, just with a 'okay' on it, so I know you're alive. I can't stand the thought of living in fear for the next couple of years.'  
'I promise.' he said. 'But you have to promise you won't tell John.'  
'Why can't John know?'  
'Because the criminals will all look at John. If he believes I'm dead, they will believe it too.' he answered and hugged her. 'I will miss you.'  
'I will never stop missing you. _Tu me manques quand tu n'es pas avec moi.'*_

 _*You are missing from me when you aren't with me. Excuse me if I made a mistake with the French._ _  
_


	3. Chapter 4 Honey

A/N: A Sherlolly AU prompt: Sherlock as a beekeeper that is very proud and jealous of his honey, that he won't let any chef use it for their creations, until a shy but persistent confectioner, Molly Hooper, asked him to let her use his honey for her desserts… Found this prompt on tumblr.

Honey

'Excuse me, sir?' She asked insecure. 'Is this the Holmes' apiculture? Are you mr. Sherlock Holmes? The famous beekeeper?'  
'I am.' He said. His honey was famous, he was the best beekeeper in the UK- at least, that's what the papers and the magazines said.  
'I am Molly Hooper, I am a confectioner from London.' She said. He waited, probably just another chef who wanted his honey to make money out of it. He didn't approve that, it was his. Funny, as a kid he went to school with a girl named Molly Hooper. No one can use it except from himself. 'I was wondering if you could help me.'  
'Help you with what?' He asked crotchety.  
'I just started a business, _The Red Circle._ As I said, I am a confectioner and I need honey for my desserts. And I was wondering if you could help me with my problem.'  
'Didn't you go to Blossomgrave Boarding School?' He asked her, curious.  
'I did. We were classmates, Sherlock.' She said. 'It took you long.'  
'Well, you are-' he made a motion with his hand. 'All grown up. Sorry. Honey, you were talking about honey.'  
She told him about her plan: they would team up, she would be the only one who would use his honey and he'd got 45% of the profit. 'Sounds fair.' He said. He hadn't been listening much, he'd been looking at her mostly. She had changed and he still felt that old attraction he felt for her years back. She was still bright and beautiful. 'Sherlock?' she said. 'Did you hear what I just said? I was asking if you could come over to London to see the bakery and lunchroom. The address is 221B, Baker Street.'  
'Sounds fun.' He said. She smiled at him, and he felt so happy because she smiled at him. The old affection hadn't died. It had only grown stronger. He knew she used to have the same feelings. They'd discussed their feelings before they graduated but lost each other. She moved to Australia, he went to university in America. 'On one condition, Molly.'  
She came closer to him. 'Yes?' He moved to her and placed his mouth on hers. She was surprised but kissed him back. 'What's your condition, Sherlock?'  
'You go on a date with me when I become your new business partner.'  
'Fair deal.' She said and smiled. 'Course I'll do that.'


	4. Chapter 5 The Chemistry Of Love

**A/N: Inspired by this prompt: "He knew that I love you also means I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else."— Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated**

 **THE CHEMISTRY OF LOVE**  
 _I am in love with Molly Hooper_.  
It had taken him months to get used to that idea; it still hit him like a bus. Since his return from Europe he had known it. Before that, he just used Molly,her help came in handy; she was in love with him, but during his time in Europe he missed her. More than he missed John, to be honest. And he regretted every stupid thing he'd ever said to her, every comment. It had broken his heart when he met Tom, to see that Molly had replaced him with his clone.  
'My engagement is over.' She whispered on a normal Tuesday when they were together in the lab. 'I broke it off.'  
She was crying, and Sherlock didn't know how to comfort her, so he did what he'd seen John do with Mary: he hugged her. She didn't let go of him and just cried her eyes out. He didn't care that the crying ruined his shirt, he only thought of her at that moment.  
'Why are you hugging me?' Molly whispered. 'It so- not you.'  
'You need me.' He said simply. 'Can I make use of your flat tonight?'  
'You aren't getting my bedroom, Sherlock Holmes. Couch will do, if you really want to stay.'  
'Course that will do.' He said. 'You need someone tonight.' Molly sniffed. 'Thanks- thank you Sherlock.' He smiled sadly.  
'I wish I could see you happy again, and not heartbroken.' She nodded, her thoughts far away.  
'I need to go, finish this experiment. Er, I'll see you tonight then?'  
'Tonight.' He agreed. 'I need to see Lestrade now.' John had been working in a different lab and hadn't seen them. 'John?' Sherlock called. 'We're leaving.' 'Sherlock, I need to finish this!' He said a bit irritated. 'You can't just appear and ask people to drop everything they're doing.'  
'Well, clearly I can because you stopped working on it. I solved the case already.' He smiled at Molly. 'Stay strong, I'll bring dinner.' She nodded and returned to her own lab.

'What was that all about?' John asked when they were in the cab. 'Molly and dinner?' Sherlock looked up from his phone, texting Mrs. Hudson if she could make a dish for him and Molly. 'She needs a friend.' Sherlock said simply.  
'And you're sure you are that person?' John asked. 'I mean, you were never really nice to her and -'  
'She has helped me in more ways than you know, John. She is special.' He said. 'She's very dear to me.'  
'Okay..' John said. 'So what about this case? Who murdered him?'  
'Wife, obviously. She had an affair with someone wealthier, so decided to stab her husband in his sleep, marry her lover and take off to somewhere we can't find her. Luckily for us Lestrade picked her up from Heathrow Airport, stopped the plane. She was going to Argentina.'  
'Argentina. It's quite nice.' 'I suppose.'  
Sherlock answered and turned back to his text. What would Molly like? Mrs. Hudson made amazing vegetarian, healthy pizza. Molly was a vegetarian. She mentioned it once. Normally he would delete all those little things, but Molly was the only one who had her own room in his mind palace. It was a quite big room, the walls were pastel blue and it had many windows. There was a bookshelf, every book she'd ever mentioned to him was in there. There were pictures of her, her dog was walking around, and most important: a version of her was there. She was always happy, chatting with him. He asked her about the information he was seeking. It sounded weird to outsiders, but he never forgot details that way and when he was very lonely, he just talked to mind- palace Molly. He never forgot anything he didn't choose to forget.  
Molly was a special case, he loved her in a way he hadn't loved anyone before.

'Have you spoken to Molly recently?' Lestrade asked. 'She seemed a bit off the last time I saw her. Heard her engagement is over.'  
'Yes, I have spoken to her. She's having a tough time.' Sherlock answered, not wanting Lestrade to be involved.  
'If you see her, can you tell her to call me? I was thinking of asking her out, you know. A posh restaurant, maybe a movie after.' Sherlock felt this heavy emotion coming up. Jealousy. Lestrade wanted his pathologist.  
'I won't.' He informed Lestrade. 'I am going out with her.'  
'Wait. Wait. Wait." John said. _'I shouldn't have said that._ ' Sherlock thought. _Well, it's better than having to bear the idea of Lestrade kissing Molly.  
_ John looked very confused. _Mental note: buy him a "I don't understand" t- shirt for his birthday, sure he'd like it._  
' _You._ You are going out with Molly Hooper!' John said.  
'Course I am.' Sherlock said. 'Why shouldn't I?'  
'This explains dinner..' John mumbled.  
Lestrade seemed very disappointed. 'Why didn't you tell me? We are considered friends, Sherlock. You know I like her.'  
'I didn't.' He answered. 'And yes, maybe we are friends, but we don't even know ourselves what we are, we wanted to keep it quiet. And please, Lestrade, you are 52, your children are almost adults. She's 34, with her own career and I am sure she wants children in the future. I don't think you fit into that picture. 57 and a baby. You deserve a normal retirement, not one with children running around and teenagers being all grumpy.' John gasped, didn't believe what Sherlock just said. Lestrade was angry.  
'How dare you! 'How can you say that?'  
'Sorry Greg, he's just very rude today.' John said, bit panicking.  
'No, it's just me. Goodbye.' Sherlock said and left the office, leaving John and Lestrade aghast.

'No, did you seriously say that to Lestrade?' Molly chuckled. 'I don't think he will talk to you for the next decade.'  
'Nope. But he needs me and he knows it.' Sherlock answered. They sat on Molly's couch, the telly was on and they had Mrs. Hudson's home- made pizza; mrs. Hudson said she was 'happy he finally went on a date although she thought it was a bit soon after John.  
Sherlock also met Molly's dog; it looked like younger version of Redbeard, Sherlock's old dog, so he loved it immediately.  
Molly was smiling, happily chatting although he could see tears in her eyes and cracks in her walls. She broke down the moment the comedy they were watching on the telly ended with a wedding. Sherlock panicked, turned the tv off and wrapped his arms around Molly.  
'I mean, I thought he loved me but he was cheating on me with someone prettier and taller! He said I wasn't worthy of his love, he preferred prettier and taller women. I can't fix my height.' She said crying.  
'That jerk. Molly, please look at me. Don't let anyone tell you you aren't good enough, or tall enough. You are perfect, in every way. That's why I love you.' She looked up, her face wet from tears.  
'You only say that because I'm crying and you've seen on tv that it works.'  
'No, of course not!' He said. 'I am only saying you are worthy of love.'  
She nodded. 'Sure.' and hid her face again by hugging him. He simply held her, wondering what was happening to him to hold a woman like that.  
She fell asleep in his arms, looking younger than she was. She looked less worried, less troubled when she was asleep. Sherlock smiled and carried her to her bed, kissed her forehead. 'Sleep well, my Molly. I love you.'

He woke up next morning on the couch to the sound of the kettle.  
'Good morning!' Molly said happy. 'I made you breakfast, scrambled eggs. Is that okay?'  
'Yeah, it's fine.' He replied. 'How did you sleep?'  
'Quite well.' She smiled as she handed him his cuppa. 'Thank you for last night. I needed that cry. And you were really sweet.'She sat down, legs crossed. 'But what did you mean with "my Molly"? You said you loved me. Is that true?'  
'You are my Molly, my pathologist.' He looked away, turned a bit red. 'I thought you knew it by now.'  
'What?' She repeated surprised.  
'I am in love with you, Molly Hooper.' He said it out loud, finally.  
'No way.'She said. 'How?'  
'How?' Sherlock said. 'How? I just fell in love with you! With the way you talk, you act around me, around other people, your humor, your intelligence, your personality, the way you are. You are unique, my own unique pathologist. You are the first, Molly. The first with whom I have fallen in love.'  
'Sherlock.' She whispered, touched his face. 'I just… I mean… It's fast after Tom.'  
'My love, he was my clone. You do know that, do you?' He asked her. 'He owned even the same coats.'  
'He was willing to go out with me.' She whispered. 'You know, nice man, not so smart but he's good looking and dresses like you. But he was so stubborn all the time and we fought a lot. He wanted children, quite a lot of them and me being a stay-at-home mum. He didn't understood my choice of career. Looking back, I don't think he understood me at all.'  
'Chances are low, to be honest.' Sherlock said.  
'I think breaking it off was a good choice.' She said. 'Broke my heart but it's better this way.'  
'And you have me now.' Sherlock said.  
'How do I have you?'  
'Well, er, boyfriend.' He said. 'I was planning on asking you if you want to date me, being my girlfriend.' Molly smiled, he looked like he was 15 and asking a girl out for the first time.  
'Yes.'  
'Yes?' He said. 'I mean, really?'  
'Really.' She smiled.  
'My Goodness. You… Me… we….' He stuttered.  
Molly's smile was even bigger. 'Oh shut up.' She kissed him. He was surprised but happy to finally do the thing he'd dreamt of.  
'I love you.' He whispered in her ear.  
'I know.' she whispered back. 'I love you too.'  
It meant he was the only one she loved in this way, the only one who she would love like this, and the only one that would ever be loved by her like this.  
Love is a promise.  
For him, it meant understanding.  
For her, it meant appreciation.  
For both, it meant honesty.


	5. Chapter 6 Hero & Wedding

**Summary:**

 **Prompt fill: Molly comes home, finding her husband and children standing on the chairs because of a weird reason & paragraph fic about the Sherlolly wedding.**

 **A/N : I posted these earlier on tumblr (221b-hogwarts-and-the- tardis . tumblt .com). The first one is inspired by a prompt.**

HERO

Molly Hooper hoped for a quiet night at home. The morgue had been busy as hell and she was still very tired because of the baby. On top of that, traffic was completely stuck.  
'Molly!' Mrs. Hudson said when she walked in. 'What is happening upstairs? I heard yelling for the past two hours, I think someone gets murdered.'

Molly ran upstairs and opened the door.  
'What is happening? Is someone injured? Oh.' She said, seeing her husband and children. 'Oh.'

Sherlock stood on the couch, with their 3 month- old daughter Alexandra in her arms, and their four year old twins William and Ophelia stood on Sherlock's chair.  
'Watch out mummy!' William said.

'Why?'

'BECAUSE THE FLOORS ARE LAVA!' They all cried frantically.

'Quickly, jump on this couch and save yourself!' Sherlock said dramatically.

Molly stepped on the couch and kissed her husband and daughter. 'So what are we going to do now?'

'We wait till the lava is gone, mummy.' Ophelia answered. 'It are dangerous monsters, and we need a doctor to defeat them.'

'And who exactly invented this game?' Molly asked.

Sherlock smirked. 'I did.'  
'Why am I not surprised?' Molly mumbled.

'Because you are married to me.' He answered. 'Every day is a new adventure.'

'Ophelia, how are we going to walk downstairs if the floors are lava?' Molly asked.

'I don't know.' She admitted. Molly searched for something she could de-lava the floors with. The only thing within reach was William's sonic screwdriver replica. She turned it on.  
'Lava monsters! This is mom speaking! I am armed with a sonic screwdriver and I am not afraid to use it!'

'Go mummy!' Ophelia said.

Molly turned it on and pointed it at the floor.  
'Disappear!'

Will and Ophelia laughed. 'You did it! The floor is normal again!'

Sherlock kissed Molly. 'Pathologist. and defeater of lava monsters. You surprise me every day, Molly Hooper.'

OOOOOoooooOoooo

MOLLY'S SONG

'And now: the groom.' John announced him. Sherlock appeared on the small stage with his violin. Molly smiled at him. He was visibly nervous.  
'This is the song I've written for my beautiful wife. I started it the first day we met and this morning, I finished it. I love you.'  
Molly smiled. He started playing- and it was the most beautiful piece she'd ever heard. At the end of the song, she climbed the stage and hugged him, crying tears of luck.


	6. Chapter 7 Too Smart To Get Caught

**A/N: This small ficlet is inspired by prompt of nightlightwriting on Tumblr. Sherlock makes an attempt to be funny.**

'Sherlock?' Molly opened the door of their apartment. Sherlock sat in his chair, his eyes dreamy, staring into the nothingness.  
'Sherlock?'  
'Yes…?' He said. 'Molly? What are you doing….here?'  
'I live here since we got engaged.' She answered. '3 months ago. What I'm doing here makes perfect sense. What is wrong with you ?'  
A line of white powder on the kitchen table drew her attention. She knew exactly what it meant.  
'William Sherlock Scott Holmes, is that what I think it is?'  
Sherlock shook his head. 'It's not-' He giggled.  
'Are you high?' She was furious. 'I thought we talked about this?'  
'I am not high.' He said.  
'Yes you are.'  
She walked to the table and got her magnifying glass out. After a minute she drew a conclusion. 'This is powder made of sugar. Sugar!' She walked to Sherlock. He sat up straight, looked normal.  
'Molly,' he said formal.  
Molly put her hands on her hips.  
'Sherlock Holmes, what are you trying to suggest?'  
'Happy April Fools' day?'  
'April's Fools day?' Molly repeated. 'That's on the first of April.'  
'That's today.'  
'No, that was yesterday.'  
Sherlock looked seriously disappointed. 'Do you think I would get high when I knew you would come home in half an hour? I am too smart to get caught.'  
She threw a pillow at him. 'Not funny! I almost called Mycroft!'  
Sherlock smirked. 'My excuses for the misunderstanding.' She nodded and sat down on his lap to kiss him. 'I think it's better if you just leave the jokes on April Fools' Day to others.' She rolled her eyes. 'Cause this is _not_ funny.'  
'Promise.' He whispered in her ear. 'Although you should have seen your face.'  
'You better keep this one promise, otherwise I'll get Mycroft.'  
'Like I'm scared of Mycroft.' He said scornfully.  
Molly chuckled. 'No, but you are scared of your mother.'  
'I'm not!' He said.  
'Yes, you are.'  
'Maybe, but you are scarier.'

The next year, on April Fools' Day Molly told him she was pregnant. It took her two weeks to convince Sherlock he was really going to be a dad.


	7. Chapter 8 A Happy Halloween Night

**A/N: _Unfortunately we don't celebrate Halloween where I live so I wrote some Halloween-ish Sherlolly :) . It's based on a prompt by_ _otpprompts_ _on Tumblr. (Mine is 221b-Hogwarts-and-the-TARDIS, come and find me)  
_** ** _The prompt:_**

 ** _It's Halloween night and your OTP is watching a horror movie. Person A thinks the movie is stupid and keeps rolling their eyes. Later when they go to bed and turn the lights off, Person A is suddenly scared but keeps denying it to person B._**

 ** _I chose the horror movie/ thriller Psycho, directed by Alfred Hitchcock, so there are some references to that movie. Happy Halloween!_**

A HAPPY HALLOWEEN NIGHT

'Fine.' Sherlock said grumpy. 'You can pick a movie. I think it's ridiculous anyway to celebrate this Halloween- thing.'  
The wind and rain were howling outside and Molly and Mrs. Hudson had decorated the whole flat with small Jack-o-lanterns and spiderwebs. Halloween was one of Molly's favorite holidays and she was dressed up as Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas. Sherlock, on the other hand, had refused to wear something different than his normal suit but Molly made sure by using make up that he looked at least a bit like Jack.  
'Come on, Mrs. Hudson's downstairs giving all the hungry children of Baker Street kilos of candy, you can join her if you want. But you'll need a different costume. You'd scare the kids away the way you look now. I think you'd look cute in a pink tutu.'

'Erm, no.'Sherlock said quickly. 'I'll stick with you and your boring movie.' He gave in. Molly smiled and handed him a DVD. ' _Psycho_?'

Molly nodded. 'It's Alfred Hitchcock best movie! And I always think it's quite scary.'

'If you say so.' He said contemptuously.

'This is boring.' Sherlock said every five minutes. 'Remind me why we are still watching this?' He kept rolling his eyes and sighed.

'It's fun.' Molly said, her lips briefly touching his cheek before her eyes returned to the screen. 'I thought you enjoyed your fair bit of psychology.'

'I'm good at deduction.' He said.

'Look at this as you'd look at a case. Try to solve it.' Molly said.

'I'll try.' Sherlock answered. 'But don't question me when I start throwing stuff at the TV because Lila or Sam are acting stupendous. I bet I have this figured out within a minute.'

oooooOOOOOOoooooo

'Shall I turn the lights off?' Molly asked later that night, when they went to bed. She and Sherlock had spent the whole night watching Psycho, Alien and the Blair Witch Project.  
Sherlock mumbled something unintelligible, his head hidden under the sheets.  
'What?' Molly said.

He sat up straight. 'I'd like the nightlight to be turned on.'

Molly chuckled. 'Why?' Then she realized. 'Are you afraid of people hiding behind the curtains?'

'No!' Sherlock said way to fast. 'Of course I am not afraid.'

'Yes, you are.' Molly smiled. 'The great Sherlock Holmes is afraid after a night of watching horror movies. The tabloids would love that story. I bet John would even love it more.'

'And he would tell it at our wedding.'

'Anderson would enjoy that story, knowing how much he _ships_ us two together.' Molly remarked.

'He still lowers the IQ of the whole street.' was Sherlocks only reply.

oooOOOOOooooooo

'Molly, please wake up.' Sherlock said, pulling Molly's arm. 'I think I heard something.'

'What?'  
'I think I heard some noise.' He whispered into Molly's ear. 'Can you please go and look?'

'What?' She said and shrugged. 'I'll do it.' She got up and went to the living room. It was silent for a few minutes, Sherlock was almost hiding under his cover until he heard screaming. 'HELP, SHERLOCK! HELP!'

He got up, ran to the living room and grabbed the first thing nearby: a book.

'Get away from her, Norman!' He yelled. Molly lay on the floor, their dog, Blackbeard, licking Molly's face. She smiled triumphant.  
'I knew it!'

Sherlock put the book away. 'I didn't mean...'

Molly smiled. 'I know, Sherlock, I know. Psycho has this crazy effect on your subconscious, you know.'

'Indeed. I have proved by this... action that even after 50 years the movie still gives us goose bumps.'

'Yeah, yeah you did.' Molly said and kissed him. 'I love you, even though I'm never going to watch a horror movie with you ever again.'

'Not even the Exorcist?' Sherlock said. 'I've seen that one.'

'And after we can never visit the British Museum ever again. I don't think so.'

Sherlock laughed. 'Let's go back to bed. I think I need some rest after this whole new horror movie experience.'

'I bet you do.' Molly laughed.


	8. Chapter 9 Just Because You Don't See It

**A/N: This fic was inspired by a title prompt given by the lovely PenaltyWaltz on Tumblr: "Just Because You Don't See It".**

Snow. No one could speak about something different than the snow that had buried London for last three days. Flights were canceled, taxi's and cars weren't riding around and the Underground was completely shut down. That wasn't the only thing: it kept snowing.

'Sherlock?' Molly picked up her phone, sitting on her couch in her dark apartment. Only candles lighted up the place.

'Yes, where are you? Are you okay? I heard from Graham that there was an electricity problem?'

'Graham?'

'Our lovely DI Lestrade.'

'Oh, Greg.' She said.

'Graham, Greg, George- it sounds all the same. All right, Lestrade said there was an electricity problem in your street?'

'Yep, all the electricity is turned off. Apparently the fuses couldn't handle the temperature dropping lower than minus 15 degrees Celsius.'

'I'm coming to pick you up.'

'You don't have to.' She stammered, but he had already hung up. She sighed. If Sherlock wanted something, he got it. Molly packed an overnight bag and put Toby in his carriage. She was never, never, never, going to leave that cat all alone.

Within 20 minutes, Sherlock arrived at the flat. Even the elevator didn't work- he had to walk to the 15th floor.

It reminded him of something.

3 months ago, he walked the same stairs to the 15th floor, the electricity and heating were both off. Molly had told Mary and Mary told John, who told Sherlock. Well, he hadn't told Sherlock it casually, he basically pushed Sherlock into a cab to Molly's apartment to "help" her.

Someone was definitely playing matchmaker.

—

He had been quite irritated, climbing the stairs to the 15th floor- why did she feel the need to live in a building this tall?- but he reminded himself that this was Molly. His Molly, the small pathologist. Who'd helped him, always, without asking something in return.

He rang the bell of number 221A. She opened up, wearing baggy jeans, UGGs, and three sweaters. 'Hi, Sherlock.' She said and opened her door to let him in. 'What are you doing here?'

'Playing hero.'

'Oh.'

'What's wrong with your heating?' He asked.

'How did you know?' She asked, only to mumble a second later: 'Never mind, you always know.'

'I'm going to fix it.'

'You can't, I already tried.' She answered.

'You're a pathologist, Molly, not an electrician.'

'No, but my dad was one. And if you haven't noticed, I'm good at more things than just cutting bodies open and making a diagnosis.'

Sherlock was surprised by this. 'Okay, but maybe I can help anyway.'

The helping didn't go very well, he realized. The heating was un-fixable and Greg texted him that the whole of London was down. 'Maybe it's time for you to go.' Molly said.

'Molly, you will legitimately catch a cold. It's 8 degrees Celsius outside.'

'I'm fine on my own.' She said. 'I have Toby.'

'And he's going to keep you warm.' Sherlock said skeptically. He walked over to her bedroom and got a few blankets out of the closet.

'What are you doing?' Molly asked. He sat down next to her on her big couch and handed her a blanket.

'Keeping you warm.' He simply replied. 'The heating and electricity should be up in about 2 hours, so until then I am here to keep you arm. May I?'

'Yes.'Molly whispered as he took her into his arms. 'That feels nice.'

'I bet it does.'

That night, they'd shared their first kiss. Greg told him later that Moriarty was responsible for the electricity going down. A new tactic, it seemed.

—–

'Hello, Molly.' His low baritone greeted her. She just closed the door.

'Hey, Sherlock.' She greeted him.

'You should put on gloves. I don't think your hands can handle more cold.' He said.

She shrugged. 'We only have to walk a few blocks. I can handle that. I'm more worried about Toby.'

Toby meowed, reacting to his own name that was called.

'You brought the cat?' Sherlock sighed.

Molly laughed. 'It's New Years Eve tonight. I can't imagine not spending it with my two big loves.'

Sherlock didn't reply but continued carrying her bags downstairs.

It kept snowing and London looked like a city out of a fairy tale. Reality was worse: there was a shortage on food. John and Mary had flown with their 4-months- old daughter Carrie to New York to celebrate New Year's Eve there with Harry and her new girlfriend. To everybody's surprise, John and Harriet were on speaking terms again. Mrs. Hudson was out of town to visit her sister. That meant Sherlock was responsible for everything.

Molly was expecting to see the flat in a complete chaos. Sherlock never cleaned, she didn't even know if he could cook. She struggled with walking, her feet got stuck in the snow.  
Sherlock took on another bag so Molly could focus on walking.  
After 45 minutes they arrived at 221B, very cold but glad they made it.

'Woah.' Molly said. 'It's actually really….'

'I decided to clean.' Sherlock replied. The flat was tidied, there was no dust, no papers laying around, no dirty plates. 'I needed more room for my experiments.'

Then the odd thing out struck Molly: the whole flat was filled with socks hanging on clotheslines.

'What are your socks doing?'

'I'm experimenting on them. How temperature and humidity influence the atoms and the quality of the material of the socks.'

'Yeah.' Molly said. 'Okay.'

'I'm boring you.' He said, suddenly aware.

'Oh, no. It's just that I haven't heard research on atoms in the material of socks.'

'I ran out of things to do. It was this or YouTube- ing serviette tutorials.'

'I thought you'd already seen every serviette tutorial in existence on YouTube.'

'I decided to do some tutorials myself.'He answered with a smile.

—–

They spent the night watching telly and wondering what the New Year would be like.

'It's almost time!' The overenthusiastic BBC commentator said. 'It's already 2016 in the European countries on the other side of the English Channel, but we have one minute left of 2015! Make it the best one ever!'

Molly chuckled. 'Where did they find this guy?'

'He normally works as a documentary commentator for BBC 2. I think he finally feels free to express his enthusiasm.'

' Since when do you watch BBC 2?' Molly asked.

'Since the last mail I received from a client was 7 days ago and the last case I solved 3. I am bored. I can't sleep - my mind's too active. What do you think I do at three am?'

'I dunno, sleeping?'

'The science of deduction is a wonderful thing, Molly.' He said.

'So everything except sleeping.' She concluded.

'Yes.' He answered, focussing on the TV again.

'30 seconds left! 30…29….28….27….' Said the BBC commentator. Molly sighed. '11..'

'Come on, let's count down together.' Sherlock said.

'10.' He said.

'9.' Molly said.

'8.' Sherlock replied.

'7.' She said, almost whispering.

'6.'

'5.'

'4.'

'3.'

He came closer, his hand was resting on her shoulder. 'Just because you don't see it always, Molly Hooper, doesn't mean I don't love you more than my own life.'

'One.' She whispered and leaned into him. Outside, there were fireworks, but no fireworks were as big as the ones exploding in their hearts.


	9. Chapter 10 Ghost

**A/N: Inspired by the wonderful song called "Ghost" by Halsey.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own** ** _Ghost_** **nor Sherlock.**

 _I'm searching for something that I can't reach  
_ 8 years. Today was the 2922nd day of knowing Sherlock Holmes. And Molly was still as much in love with him as she had been on the first day.

 _I like the sad eyes, bad guys_  
 _Mouth full of white lies_  
 _Kiss me in the corridor,_  
 _But quick to tell me goodbye_  
Sherlock knew what he wanted. He simply couldn't reach it. The girlfriends he had were always for a couple of weeks; just because none of the girls he dated were her, the perfect woman.

 _You say that you're no good for me_  
 _Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve_  
 _And I swear I hate you when you leave_  
 _But I like it anyway_  
Molly wanted Sherlock, she wanted him desperately. She felt way too innocent for him, she felt he was way out of her league. He didn't love her back, according to her. Why would he otherwise say all these horrible things?

 _My ghost_  
 _Where'd you go?_  
 _I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me_  
 _My ghost_  
 _Where'd you go?_  
 _What happened to the soul that you used to be?_  
She drifted away from him, into the arms of James Moriarty. The spider stole his girl. He had never been in pain like this before.

 _You're a "Rolling Stone" boy_  
 _"Never sleep alone" boy_  
 _"Got a million numbers_  
 _And they're filling up your phone", boy_  
He had changed too. He just didn't care who he dated if she just didn't look like her. Seeing her hurt him too much. He had turned into a numb, heartbroken man.

 _I'm off the deep end, sleeping_  
 _All night through the weekend_  
 _Saying that I love him but_  
 _I know I'm gonna leave him_  
The situation changed. James was manipulating her. Molly knew. Molly was fully aware, but she just didn't care. Jim cared at least. Something that couldn't be said about someone else.

 _My ghost_  
 _Where'd you go?_  
 _I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me_  
 _My ghost_  
 _Where'd you go?_  
 _What happened to the soul that you used to be?_  
 _I'm searching for something that I can't reach_  
He had lost her. Lost her due to his own madness. And he would never get her back.

 _My ghost_  
 _Where'd you go?_  
 _I can't find you in the body sleeping next to me_  
 _My ghost_  
 _Where'd you go?_  
 _What happened to the soul that you used to be?_  
She had lost him. And he would never come back.


	10. Chapter 11 Save Me

**A/N: Spoiler warning! This story is set after TAB in modern times. Short summary: Molly finds Sherlock in hospital after his relapse.**

SAVE ME

As Sherlock got out of the plane, he knew his body wasn't going to survive this without medical attention. His heartbeat was irregular and his breathing was rapid. He almost fell down walking to the car.

'Sherlock, we have to get you to a hospital.' Mary said worriedly.

'No, I'm fine.' He said, his voice almost gone.

'You aren't.' Mycroft said. 'Please, do so. The hospital please!'He said to the driver. Mycroft called the hospital and prepared them for it. Sherlock Holmes could not be seen at the hospital.

'Get me a pardon, Mycroft.' Sherlock said. 'Otherwise, I can't go.'

'Don't be silly, Sherlock.' Mary said. 'We would get you to the hospital even now you're supposed to be to be in Eastern Europe.'

'I don't want to go to Barts.' He mumbled.

'Why not?'

'Molly.' He hissed under his breath.

'Molly Hooper?' John said surprised. Mary watched Sherlock with worried eyes.

'Don't say anything, Sherlock. Try to control your breathing, try to focus.'

'I know.' Sherlock said.

OooooOOOOOooo

They arrived at Luton and Dunstable Hospital 15 minutes later – it was easier to go to since they had been at Luton Airport- and Sherlock was carried away to the ER.

'What is going to happen now?' Mary asked.

'They're probably going to give him some medication, empty his stomach since he has taken some pills. We are quick, he has only had them in his system for 20 minutes. Still, 20 minutes are too much but the only thing we can do is waiting.' Mycroft answered.

'How many times?'

'I think this is the second time that it has gotten out of hand since he started doing drugs when he was 19.' Mycroft answered absentmindedly like he was years back.

'Why did he do this?' John said angrily. 'Why would he throw everything away?'

Mycroft shrugged. 'I can only offer one explanation. Sherlock is afraid. Afraid of Moriarty. The man has caused so much damage, Sherlock lost so much. This new mission for MI6 would cause his death within 6 months. I think he preferred dying by using his favorite drugs.'

'We can't leave him alone.' Mary said. 'If he truly has done this because of Moriarty, he might do it again.'

Mycroft stood up.

'Where are you going?' John demanded. Mycroft looked very cross, but also very worried and old. 'I am going to call Molly.'

'Molly Hooper?' John said.

'Do you know another Molly, John? Of course Molly Hooper. If Sherlock begs us not to bring him to her, she is the most important piece of this puzzle.'

OOOooooooOOOOOO

Sherlock was put to sleep by the doctors, they said it was easier to keep him in that state until the drugs were completely out of his system. It was a miracle that he was alive, with the doses he had taken. The cocaine, morphine, and heroin affected everything. The only thing the doctors could do they had done: they had given him benzodiazepines and other pills to stabilize him.

Molly had rushed to the emergency room immediately after Mycroft had called and found them sitting all together in the waiting room. It was quite early, half past eight in the morning and Molly looked like she came straight out of bed: she wore no makeup, her hair was loosely braided into a french braid and she wore an old pair of jeans and an "I love pathology" sweater.

'Molly!' Mary said, hugging her. 'Thank you for coming on such a short notice.'

'Where is Sherlock?' Molly said rapidly. 'I need to see him. Can I help?'

'No, miss Hooper.' Mycroft answered. 'Please, sit down.'

'Why? Sherlock had an accident, I'm a doctor. Maybe I can help.'

'You work with dead people.' John said. 'I don't know if that's gonna save Sherlock.'

'Just sit, Molls.' Mary said. Molly sighed.

'Sherlock was indeed in something you could call an accident, ms. Hooper.' Mycroft said seriously. 'The question is whether you must be angry or worried. His current condition is rather... self-inflicted.' He handed her the list.

'Are you serious?' Molly asked, scanning the list. 'Oh, Sherlock...' She whispered. 'Never take both cocaine and morphine.'

'You know of the existence of the list?' John asked.

'Of course, I do.' Molly answered. 'From whom do you think he gets all his medical advice from?'

'But you hit him.'

'Only because I was very upset.' Molly said. 'I feel guilty about that, I must admit. But Sherlock had promised me to tell Mycroft or me when he was near that stuff again. Mycroft and I have tried to monitor his usage for the past few months. But we did not expect it to be this bad.' Molly was clearly highly upset.

'And I assure you, there will be consequences.' Mycroft said.

'He was not planning on surviving, was he?' Molly asked.

'No.' Mary answered. 'He wasn't.'

'It makes all sense now.'

'What does, ms. Hooper?' Mycroft asked.

'He invited me a couple of nights ago at the flat, said he wanted to say goodbye. He looked so sad, so desperate. He said he loved me.' She whispered. 'If he was planning on killing himself, it makes all sense.'

'He will not be waking up anytime soon. Can I get you a cuppa?' John asked.

'Yeah.' Molly answered. 'Mycroft, can I have a private word?'

'Naturally.' He answered and stood up.

OOoooooOOOOOO

'How could we have not known?' Molly said. 'I thought he was doing really well since his last relapse.'

'I had someone watching his drug dealers.' Mycroft answered thoughtfully. 'He didn't get that stuff from them.'

Molly sighed. 'If I just had connected all those dots this would have never happened.'

'I am not so sure, ms. Hooper.'

'Start calling me Molly, Mycroft. We've worked together for three years now, I think we are past formalities.'

' _Molly.'_ Mycroft said. 'My MI6 man said Sherlock was in touch with his homeless network the past few days.'

'They gave him those drugs, didn't they?'

'I suppose so.' Mycroft answered. 'But let's go back in. Your coffee is lukewarm by now.'

OoooooOOOOO

Molly and Mycroft waited. John and Mary left after 6 hours of waiting because Mary felt sick. 'How long is he going to take to wake up?' Molly asked.

'A few more hours, perhaps. The pills are out of his system, but the nurse said he looked better.' Mycroft answered.

'You are a sweet big brother, you know.' Molly said.

'Please, do not use the word "sweet" in reference to my person ever again, ms. Hooper.' Mycroft said.

'But you are, Myc. You really do care. Sherlock should give you more credit.'

'Mycroft is the name that was given to me.' He answered. Molly smiled.

OooooOOOOO

'He's awake!' The nurse announced four hours later.

'You go in, Molly. I think he will be delighted to see you.' Mycroft said.

'Sure?'

'Yes.' He answered. 'Just go now.'

Molly stood up and entered the room. Sherlock was lying in the big white bed. Even though he was over 6 ft. tall he looked so skinny, so vulnerable. Molly had rarely seen him like this before. She sat down on the chair next to his bed and grabbed his hand. 'Hey.' She whispered. 'It's Molly.'  
He blinked a few times. 'Where am I? If this is Heaven, I demand to leave.' Molly chuckled.

'You're in the hospital, Sherlock. Can you remember what happened?'

'I overdosed. Badly.' He answered. Something was off. He'd let all his guards down. No fake expressions. No lies. 'Are you angry with me?'

Molly sighed. 'No. I used to be, Sherlock, but I push you only away by being angry. I won't let you go down that road again.'

'Thank you, Molly.' He whispered.

She smiled a sad smile. 'Try to get better, Sherlock.'

'I am.. afraid.' He said almost whispering.

'We are all afraid. That's human.'

'Is Mycroft here as well?'

'Of course he's here! He won't let his little brother die!'

'I am not sure of that.'

'Sherlock, he and I love you. We won't let you die. We won't give up on you. I promise.'

He smiled. 'And I love you, Molly Hooper.'


	11. Chapter 12 Waiting Room

**Summary: Mycroft gets admitted to the hospital with severe pneumonia. Sherlock and Molly meet in the waiting room.  
A/N: I wanted to write some Holmes' brother stuff (again) and Sherlolly. And this happened. This one-shot is set pre-S1 and is AU.  
If you enjoyed it, please review!**

 _WAITING ROOM – a Sherlock season 1 AU prequel_

Sherlock Holmes sat alone in the waiting room of Saint Bartholomew's Hospital in London. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair greasy and his hands were shaking. 'Please don't die on me, Mycroft.' He kept whispering to himself. His brother Mycroft Holmes was admitted to the hospital only the day before yesterday with severe pneumonia. And it was his fault. If Sherlock hadn't disappeared to his favorite new (and to Mycroft unfamiliar) drugs den, everything would have been fine. Instead, Mycroft had spent the past week searching for his little brother and his list.

Mycroft had caught a very bad cold that caused pneumonia but he hadn't allowed himself to stop searching for his brother, to take a day off from work to let his body heal. No, instead he did not sleep or eat properly – he just survived on cigarettes, coffee and salads (if he could find the time to sit down and finish it). He'd found Sherlock eventually, high on heroin in a London suburb.

The oldest Holmes' brother was admitted to the hospital later that day when he had breathing problems and his temperature had risen to 41 degrees. He didn't even want to go, but his girlfriend Anthea had made it pretty clear that Mycroft had no choice. Sherlock had come to the hospital immediately and furthermore he had spent all his time in at Barts. Sitting in a dull waiting room waiting for news on his brother's condition.

Footsteps were approaching, that caused Sherlock leaving his mind palace. A young woman sat down next to him, wearing jeans, a blue sweater and a lab coat. Her nameplate told Sherlock that her name was "Ms. Molly Hooper, pathologist-in-training".

''Hi," She said.

Sherlock nodded at her but didn't reply. A long period of silence followed.

"So why are you here?" She asked, then blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy or something. I'm just curious."

"My brother," He replied, staring into the distance. "Severe pneumonia. You?"

"My dad had a myocardial infarction and a cardiac arrest," She answered. "He's on the IC now, but I don't think he's going to make it. He has a past of myocardial infarctions and I fear this one will cause his death."

"You're a pathologist," Sherlock said out of the blue.

"In training, hope to be one when I've graduated. I don't think you're still in college, are you?"

"Nope. I graduated a few weeks ago. I studied chemistry."

"Got a job yet?"

Sherlock decided to play nice, even though he was tired, suffering from withdrawal symptoms and hungry. She was too vulnerable already, as an only child, with no relationship, and with only a few friends. "No, I want to work as a detective."

Molly smiled. "For the Yard? I mean no offense, but those idiots don't solve a thing. Mind you, I perform post mortems on many bodies for them and only 30% of the cases gets solved."

Sherlock laughed. "No, not for the Scotland Yard." He paused. "I want to work as a consulting detective."

"And that is? I have never heard of it."

"I invented the job. When the police are out of their depth, they consult me. And I solve cases for clients. I make use of the science of deduction and thus I solve the case."

"Interesting," She said genuinely. "What do you deduce about me, stranger?"

He stared at her and took his time.  
"I deduce you are an only child, you are in your twenties, went through a rock and punk phase in your teens, did not grow up in London, your mother died young and you were raised by your father."

"Who sent me off to boarding school as soon as I was old enough." She said bitterly.

"You have only one or two friends – no two. Definitely two. And you have a cat."

"Impressive. Really impressive."

"Most people tell me to shut up."

Molly chuckled. "I'm not 'most people'. Do you happen to be Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes."

"I know you."  
"From what?"

"Firstly, you went out with my friend Janine for three months. She sends her love, she's engaged now. And second, I help Mycroft out. I am the one who is responsible for the drug tests. Mycroft asked me to look after you."

Sherlock shrugged. "You do not know _anything_ about me." He said with a dangerously low voice.

"I never said I do, Mr. Holmes. The only thing I know that your brother cares very much about you. He called me, actually, three days ago. If there were any young males brought in who had OD'ed on heroin and if I knew locations of new drug dens." She shook her head. "I am not a user myself but we had some fellas coming in who OD'ed, all from the same neighborhood. They kept talking in their sleep, hallucinating about a bloke named "Shezza".''

''Damn.'' Sherlock hissed under his breath. ''I _knew_ I shouldn't use that name.''

''Mycroft knew enough.''

'Did your father really have a heart attack?" Sherlock asked suspiciously. "Or are you just here to tell me little lies to pity you so you can use me when I am most vulnerable and send me off to rehab."

"Chamber 10. Doctor James Hooper. It's on your left." He stood up and walked away from her - only to return a few minutes later. "You were right." He mumbled.

"Told you so."

"What now?" He asked. "Mycroft will eventually get out of this bloody hospital."

"I keep working as his helper. And I think you need all the help you can get becoming a consulting detective. At least, I can help you getting into the morgue."

"Thank you." Sherlock answered. "Ehm, do you want to go for coffee?"

Molly smiled. "I'd like that very much."


End file.
